


Stay Here

by quartetship



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:40:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1369237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartetship/pseuds/quartetship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We never really said things like 'I love you' but I think we both just knew."</p>
<p>In a post apocalyptic world, Marco is always there to take care of Jean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Here

**Author's Note:**

> So, random zombie apocalypse one-shot.
> 
> I'm considering continuing this, but I'm not sure if I've got enough of an idea fleshed out for it yet. So hopefully it's enjoyable as a one-shot, for now!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> \--  
> Like this?
> 
> [Find me on tumblr](http://quartetship.tumblr.com/) for more of the same, as well as fandom-related posts and rambles!  
> \--

"All these brainless freaks after us and you get taken out by a branch."

"Shut up, smart ass. It was a root, and it was sharp as hell!"

Marco looked down at me and smiled despite my salty language. He peeled back the fabric of my sock and looked at the ankle I'd just gashed open on a tree root; it hurt like hell to have him touch it, but I knew he could patch me up.

"We're gonna run out of bandages if you keep going like this" he sighed, digging through his backpack. He was right - this was the third injury I'd gotten in half as many weeks. I was sure he was going to lecture me about it, but he just dumped a splash of rubbing alcohol onto my cut without a warning and began dabbing at the blood.

" _Ouch_ , dude!"

"I know, I know. Sorry." He sounded genuine and it reminded me of just how many times we'd been here before; me cursing about my latest cuts and bruises and then Marco taking care of me the best he could. My ankle was feeling better already, but I felt like an ass.

"No, _I'm_ sorry" I said. "I feel like I do this to you all the time. I don't even know why you stick with me anymore."

He unrolled a length of medical tape from our dwindling supply and began looping it around the gauze he'd laid across my foot. "You know exactly why I'm still here" he said. I nodded.

I _did_ know. Marco and I were all each other had. It'd just been he and I since the Outbreak had happened; we were fifteen and sixteen we both lost our families and made a break for it together. We'd been walking - sometimes running - all over the states since then, stealing whatever we needed and sleeping wherever we could. He was always my best friend, but we were a lot more than that since everything happened. We never really said things like 'I love you' but I think we both just knew. Not that it mattered; being with a guy was a lot less of a big deal when there was no one around to say anything about it.

"That feel ok?" He asked finally, tucking the loose end of the tape under its edge.

"Yeah, just let me --" I tried to stand, but the pain was still too fresh. I stumbled forward and he caught me, pulling most of my weight up onto his shoulder.

"Looks like walking will have to wait until tomorrow" he said, helping me sit back onto the dusty floor of the abandoned barn we were staying in. I nodded and tried to hide how pissed off I was, mostly at myself.

"So I'm useless right now."

"You're _injured_ right now" he corrected. I glared at him and he looked like he might laugh, so I turned away completely and stared down at my bandaged foot.

"I'm sorry you're always having to take care of me" I said after a few minutes of silence. I heard him put down whatever he was working on and scoot up behind me, pressing his chest against my back.

"That's why I'm here" he said quietly, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I laid my head back against his shoulder and he leaned down to kiss me, sliding a hand down my arm to lay his fingers over mine. We sat that way - in the back stable of the barn, just looking out the window as the world outside got darker for the evening - for what might have been an hour or more. Times like that were the only respite we ever got in our broken excuse for a life.

Marco was tapping his fingers on the plywood floor, humming a song we knew from back when we were kids. It was nice; I usually fell asleep when he did that kind of thing, and he was scratching at my scalp too. I was basically gone when he pulled away and went quiet like he was listening for something.

"Marco?"

"Shhh..."

He stood up and crossed the back of the room before I could even turn around. After a minute I could hear it too - a dull thumping sound from outside the doors of the barn. I tried to get back on my feet too but he hissed at me to stop.

"No, Jean - stay down!"

"What do you think --"

"I don't know" he said quickly. He glanced back and forth between me and the doors, and then bent down to tighten his boots.

"Marco, don't."

He looked up at me with his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. I'd never seen him look that way; he was almost unrecognizable. He pulled the knife from the side strap of his boot and tossed the backpack in my direction.

"Stay here, Jean."

"Marco, seriously. Don't go --"

" _Jean_ " he said sternly; it sounded so foreign coming from him that I couldn't even answer. "Stay _here_."


End file.
